Homer and I fought a lot when we were young boys. We were both strong-willed and very determined.
During one of those times of serious disagreement(over what, I cannot now remember),we fought. This was not the first time. This time, we were hitting each other, and as we did we moved towards the front steps. Soon we were both about to take a tumble. I was on top of Homer, and I had him at a disadvantage. I was winning this fight until a small planter landed on my back. Mother had hurled it at me to break the fight. I was not happy at the "alliance" between Mother and my brother.
I was wrong about this "alliance";she just wanted us to stop fighting. Later, whenI won awards for speeches, debates, oratorical contests,Mother showed her support by being in the audience. I remember that my brother Homer was always happy for me,too.
05 September 2006
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1 comment:
It's very heartwarming to look back at those memories, Uncle Pablo. As we get older (read: wiser), we understand our parents more. Not to mention as we become parents ourselves and go through the motions.
Thanks for sharing!
Olive
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